


Snow Falling on Us

by bottseveryflavorbeans_jrayoh23



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Carols, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Detention, Draco hums, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Forbidden Forest, Harry is feeling things, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Invisibility Cloak, M/M, Potions Accident, Santa Hat, Snow, Snowball Fight, Teasing, They get in trouble, sharing the invisibility cloak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 09:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13315308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottseveryflavorbeans_jrayoh23/pseuds/bottseveryflavorbeans_jrayoh23
Summary: This is a (belated) Christmas fic...I hope you all are still in the mood for it. It is Christmas Eve, Draco has roped Harry into helping him break into Snapes potions stores for an ingredient. Harry agrees because he owes Draco for all his help in potions. So invisibility cloak in hand, they head off to Snapes stores, but things go wrong and they end up in detention on Christmas Eve.





	Snow Falling on Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Forgetticus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forgetticus/gifts).



> Thank you to my amazing writing partner and beta, Forgetticus! She keeps me honest and keeps me writing. :)

  
Amid the after dinner rush of students in the Great Hall, Malfoy stalked over and pinned Harry in a corner. It reminded Harry of a very aggressive Flamingo attacking the water. All legs and pointy nose, but still sort of eye-catching. He narrowed his eyes and fixed Harry with a serious look then mumbled, “You _owe_ me, Potter.”

  
“I know, I know,” Harry said with bitter resignation.

  
It was his own fault that he was stuck in a corner of the Great Hall practically being held captive by Draco Malfoy. Over the last month, Harry had been begrudgingly accepting help in Potions from Malfoy. It was his only option, as he often reminded himself, if he hoped to pass with high enough marks to become an Auror. Now he was repaying his debt by helping Malfoy sneak into Snape’s stores for some ingredient to make a potion Malfoy wanted to practice brewing over Christmas break.

  
Looking around the Great Hall, which was adorned with all manner of Christmas decorations, Malfoy’s jaw clenched. The tension was so visible, Harry momentarily found himself worrying for the state of Malfoy’s teeth. He could hear Hermione’s voice telling him about her parents patients who would grind their teeth. The stories always ended with people having to get dentures. Harry tried to picture Malfoy with dentures and almost laughed.

  
“You swore you could get me in and out without Snape knowing. Can you?” Malfoy asked. He eyed Harry’s bag and it filled Harry with unease. His stomach had taken to somersaulting like a toddler in their first gymnastics class. The fluttering feeling he felt usually indicated to him that he was about to do something incredibly stupid.

  
Though, he mused, the feeling never stopped him before, so why should it now? And with that newly braced resolve, he took a deep breath. “Merlin’s beard, Malfoy, yes. How many more times are you going to ask me?”

  
With an exasperated look to match only Hermione’s, Malfoy said, “As many time as it takes to be sure you aren’t a complete dunce.”

  
It was amazing to him that Malfoy could encapsulate so many different emotions in one look. It was a demure mixture of curiosity, caution, and contempt. Harry suspected that Malfoy was curious about the Invisibility Cloak, though he could hardly blame him. It was even a mystery to Harry, still. So many unanswered questions. But how Malfoy could look at him with contempt, as if Harry were the one forcing them to steal from Snape...well, Harry was sure he didn't know.

  
Harry tugged his bag up on his shoulder and responded, “Hey, remember, you need me. Maybe don't be a dick?”

  
Malfoy rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath. His frame slumped a little, but Malfoy quickly caught himself and straightened up to his full height which was at least a few inches more than Harry. “Fine. So where is it?”

  
“In my bag, relax, will you? You’re drawing attention.”

  
“I can’t help it if people want to stare at me, Potter.”

  
Almost as if on cue, a group of fifth years walked past and Harry caught three of them dragging their gazes lazily up and down Malfoy’s lean frame.

“You could just give it to me and then you won't have to worry about people watching us. There’s no reason for both of us to…you know.” Draco gestured wildly to imply sharing the cloak with Harry. If people weren’t watching them before, they were now. As more people passed, they did double takes upon realizing who was making the wild hand gestures and to whom they were directed.

  
In spite of himself, Harry thought about how this must look. The pair of them whispering and standing inches apart in a semi-dark corner of the Great Hall. The holiday decorations didn't help. The twinkle of the lights from the tree and the bannisters shone on Malfoy’s face making odd shadows that accentuated his pointy nose in a way that made him look less like an angry Flamingo and more like the distinguished bloke he always claimed to be.

  
If he had been an observer to this kind of interaction, in a setting such as this, he wouldn’t hesitate to think they were having a lovers’ quarrel. However, Harry was sure, no one would think that he and Malfoy were having anything other than a normal quarrel as they were so accustomed to doing even _if_ there was mistletoe hanging not one foot away from them.

  
“No thanks. Don’t want to risk you losing it, or stealing it,” Harry snapped, suddenly very annoyed that he let himself get roped into stealing from Snape. As if Snape needed another reason to give Harry a hard time. He was already suspicious of his improvements in the class, minute as they were.

  
“Potter, I am not going to lose it. It’s below me to do something so... _ordinary_ as misplacing precious, rare magic. Do you take me for Longbottom?” His eyes went wide and he fanned a hand across his chest which made Harry think of his Aunt Petunia whenever she had a particularly nasty piece of gossip about one of their neighbors.

  
“Will you shut it?” Harry asked, but decided not to wait for a reply. “Let’s go.” With that, Harry started off and didn’t look back to see if Malfoy was following him. He smirked as he heard a huff and then light footsteps behind him.

 

***

  
“This is all your fault,” Malfoy snarled, elbowing Harry in the ribs. The pain shot through him, making him sit up straighter and move away from Malfoy.

  
They were sitting on a bench in the faculty office waiting for Snape to return with McGonagall. Harry worried that this would finally wear McGonagall’s patience thin. Stealing from Snape wasn’t exactly a good reason to break to rules, not like all the times he broke them to keep Hogwarts safe.

  
Anger bubbled inside of Harry. He felt it just below the surface like a volcano building pressure before blowing. Malfoy was the one who knocked into the shelf. He was the one who attempted a Scourgify that just happened to make the mess disappear along with the entire store closet.

  
“My fault?” Harry blurted out. His anger finally getting the best of him. “If you hadn’t been so clumsy…”

  
“ _Me_? Your the one with the oafish feet,” Malfoy snapped. As if for good measure, he kicked Harry’s foot. “Every time you stepped, I nearly lost my balance.”

  
“Sod off.”

  
Before Malfoy could respond, the door burst open and Harry braced himself for the pursed lips and devastating look of disappointment in McGonagall's’ eyes, but instead found himself looking at Hagrid wearing a Santa cap.

  
“Alrigh’, shut it the both o’ ye. Follow me. Time fer yer punishment, I reckon. Each o’ ya, take this lis’.”

  
***

  
“The forest, Hagrid, really?” Harry asked.

  
His teeth clattered together. It was an especially cold night, but the snow fall and wind made it moreso. Usually, Harry enjoyed seeing the grounds covered in snow. It was like the picturesque landscape inside of a snow globe—perfect and quiet. However, with the wind screaming past his earmuff-less ears, Harry quite thought he hated the snow-covered grounds.

  
Hagrid held up the lantern in front of them and there was a small cone of light that spread out ahead of them, illuminating the forest’s entrance. Then with his free hand, Hagrid adjusted his Santa cap so it was pulled slightly over the tops of his ears.

  
“Yes, ‘Arry, McGonagall's orders, yeh see. O’herwise, I ‘spect Snape would’ave both o’ yeh expelled fer the simple fac’ that he hadn’ the slightes’ clue teh what ye were up teh. He on’y calmed when she agreed teh a detention in the fores’. He was pushin’ fer it, now I think about it.”

  
Mindlessly, Hagrid placed an enormous hand on Harry’s shoulder, slightly knocking him off balance and backward into Malfoy who was behind him. The shock of Malfoy catching him before his ass could meet with the fresh powdering of snow was enough to heat Harry’s entire body despite the frigid wind. The reaction to feeling Malfoy’s hands gripping his arms was entirely unexpected. It made Harry’s throat go dry.

  
After a minute of holding Harry, Malfoy scowled as if only just realizing he was still holding him. Then he quickly shoved Harry away and dusted his gloved hands off on his trousers as if to wipe away whatever ‘Harry-ness’ lingered after the touch. “What are we even doing out here? It‘s Christmas Eve, for Merlin’s sake.”

  
“Collectin’ some o’ the ingredients yeh two disappeared, aren’ we?” Hagrid said. He laughed and then shoved a few jars each into Harry and Malfoy’s hands.

  
“It’s too cold and most of them cannot be found in the Forbidden Forest. This is pointless,” Malfoy whined.

  
He hugged his coat in tighter and pulled his shoulders up to his ears effectively reminding Harry of a turtle when his scarf covered his pointy chin. Though a sort of oddly attractive turtle, Harry admitted, at least when his pale cheeks were wind blown and there were flakes of snow in his eyelashes.

  
“Well, the faster we do this, the faster we can go inside and get warm,” Harry choked out the words all at once. Malfoy was watching him with a deviously curious look on his face. Though how anyone managed to look devious or curious when half their face was hidden behind the hideous silver and green of a Slytherin scarf, Harry hadn’t the slightest.

  
“Once again, astounding logic, Potter,” Malfoy said. His voice was muffled by the fabric of the scarf, but the drawling sarcasm that Harry had grown to expect from Malfoy was unmistakably there. Somehow, that was a comfort.

  
In the dim cone of light from the lantern, Harry could just make out the star shaped leaves of one of the plants on the list Snape had given Hagrid. He stalked off toward it, casting a _Lumos_. “Just shut it and look for the stupid plants.”

  
Malfoy made a _humpf_ sound and muttered a _Lumos_ as well. Then Harry heard the crunch of his footsteps moving in the opposite direction. Harry turned his head slightly to watch Malfoy from his periphery. He knelt down and examined a small white-petaled flower at the base of the tree. It seemed to grow out from a knot in the tree’s roots. Malfoy’s tongue flicked out in concentration and then his eyes set in a determined way before he removed one of his gloves to stroke the petal, making sure it was soft enough to be collected. His long index finger stroked the petal from stamen to the outer edge. Then he repeated the motion on the other petals. Seemingly satisfied, Malfoy plucked the first petal he stroked and placed it in one of the jars.

  
Harry’s throat was dry again and he felt the same warmth from earlier return but more slowly this time, like a cloud moving out of the way of the sun. The warmth hit in small increments until it was everywhere. He shook his head because he was definitely not letting himself go all warm and fuzzy over Draco Malfoy.

  
Refocusing on the plant in front of him, Harry brushed off the light dusting of snow covering the star-shaped leaves and once he was sure it matched the description, plucked it from the earth and placed it in a jar. 

  
Fifteen minutes passed in silence. Malfoy stayed away from Harry and Hagrid, but not so far away that he was outside the radius of light from the lantern. Harry spent at least ten of those minutes crouched over a plant thinking about Malfoy holding him earlier. Finally, he snapped back to reality and noticed the plant that he was crouched over wasn't even one on the list. He spent the other five being embarrassed at the fact that he was thinking about Malfoy at all.

  
Hagrid’s voice finally broke the silence and startled Harry enough that he ended up falling into the snow.

  
“Aren’ ye going to tell me ‘ow yeh two managed teh disappear the entire storage closet?”

  
Instinctively, Harry’s eyes found Malfoy’s. Against the dark backdrop of the forest, Malfoy’s features were even more striking. His cheeks were rose-red and his nose, too. His pale skin shone against the night under the wash of light from his wand. Whisks of white-blonde hair slipped out from under the furred edges of his bomber hat. They hung in his eyes which were almost black, the pupils were so wide.

Harry choked on whatever it was he had intended to say to Hagrid. It was lost now anyway. His throat was dry again. He was transfixed. He stood motionless under the scrutiny of Malfoy’s stare.

  
Surprisingly, Malfoy seemed equally afflicted. It was only through the sharpened rise and fall of his chest that Harry was even sure Malfoy hadn’t somehow turned into a statue.

  
“Hmm,” Hagrid said, scratching at his beard with his free hand. He looked back and forth between Harry and Malfoy. “Fin’, don’ tell me. The look on Snape’s face, though, that was a sigh’. Glad I didn' miss it, I am.”

  
More silence passed after Hagrid gave up trying to pry from Harry exactly what spell they used to make the entire store closet disappear. Harry, himself, wasn’t entirely sure why a simple Scourgify managed to make it all disappear. Probably a mixture of bad luck and spilled potion. Malfoy, Harry remembered, knocked into the shelf where Snape kept some of the more rare ingredients, so it was likely one or more of them mixed together in the fall creating the right conditions for a Scourgify to erase things from existence.

  
It was all Malfoy’s fault. Harry had never had any issues sharing the cloak with Ron and Hermione and Ron was more lanky than anyone Harry had ever met. He never considered there would be a problem sharing the cloak with one person when he so often had done so with two. Yet, Harry should have known Malfoy was not just any person and that the mixture of their personalities would result in trouble.

  
Once under the cloak, Harry had found himself regretting, again, the bad luck of getting roped into this, for he found himself in closer quarters with Malfoy than he ever intended. Every bit of Harry that touched Malfoy felt like fire. His thigh on Malfoy’s. His elbow knocking into Malfoy’s. Even their shoulders touching in an uncomfortably intimate way. He was breathing in Malfoy’s breath and smelling the lingering soapy smell of someone who was freshly showered. It had been overwhelming and when Malfoy, in an attempt to communicate without words, turned to Harry and raised his brow to ask _Now?_ , Harry felt his breath hitch.

  
From that far away, Harry could see every feature on Malfoy’s face. The small lines at the corner of his eyes. The gray of his iris’ surrounded by a ring of black with blue-ish flecks that made his eyes look billowy like smoke billowing from a fireplace. A small sprinkling of freckles across his cheeks and nose, which was pointy, but also elegant. Thin, pink lips that Harry found himself looking at for a beat too long.

  
All of those observations felt like they took hours, but only a moment had passed because when Harry snapped out of it, Malfoy’s eyebrows were still raised in question. He nodded and they proceeded to sneak into Snape's private store closet. Once inside, Harry desperately wanted to be free of the cloak and tugged at it. Malfoy must have been caught off guard because he tugged back trying to cover the part of him exposed by Harry. Then in an instant, Harry saw Malfoy lose his balance and sway backward into the shelf.

  
After that, everything had passed in a blur. Snape showing up mere seconds after the closet disappeared. Yelling. So much yelling. Malfoy yelped once and Harry had to stifle a laugh because the distinct purple color Snapes face was turning indicated that laughing would only make things worse.

  
Now, however, Harry found himself crouching in the snow a few feet away from Malfoy all while looking at a plant that was definitely just a weed. It was Christmas Eve, Harry whined internally, and he was looking for plants. For the millionth time, Harry wondered how he got into this situation.

  
Faintly, Harry heard a sound and turned to find Hagrid, who he assumed was the source of the noise, only to see Hagrid was leaning against a tree practically sleeping with his eyes open. If Hagrid was sleeping, then that meant Malfoy was humming and nothing seemed more unlikely to Harry.

  
It seemed so unnatural to hear Malfoy do something so normal as singing while working. Merlin, Harry hummed while working and now Malfoy was doing it like he was a normal person and not Dorian Gray’s portrait come to life. Harry often thought of Malfoy like an exhibit at a museum. Striking and elegant. Timeless. He was there simply to be admired from afar. Looked at, but not touched like a Monet hanging in a gilded frame.

  
And the humming coming from Malfoy was actually quite awful. So awful and off-key. Harry found that his partner in crime could not carry a tune. Seems looking like a marble statue carved by Michelangelo doesn’t mean you will automatically have the voice of an angel. It was actually sort of endearing to hear Malfoy hum, what almost sounded like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, while he rummaged through the snow covered roots of a tree.

  
After what Harry could only assume was the line “you would even say it glows,” he snorted in spite of his best efforts to look like he wasn't paying attention to the way Malfoy nodded his head along with the humming. The noise escaped him and echoed in the silence of the forest. It woke Hagrid, who sniffed and grunted that he hadn’t been sleeping, simply resting his eyes a bit.

  
“Are you laughing at me, Potter?” Malfoy snapped his head up from the plant he was examining. His cheeks were still flushed red and there were more wisps of white-blonde hair hanging in his face.

  
“Course not.”

  
“Sounded like you snorted.”

  
“Nope. You must be hearing things. Maybe it was the wind?”

  
“Erm, ‘Arry, as much as Malfoy gets on me nerves, yeh did snort at him,” Hagrid decided to add unhelpfully. He shrugged as he said it seeming to apologize for siding with Malfoy.

  
“ _Hagrid_ ,” Harry snapped.

  
“Sorry, ‘Arry. Gunna walk o’er there fer a momen’ while ye sort this out, yeah,” Hagrid smiled as he said this and then walked away with the lantern leaving them in slight darkness. The only light came from the tips of their wands which were aimed at one another.

  
Malfoy stood up and walked closer to where Harry was still crouching. His wand shone like a spotlight on Harry. His eyebrow was raised and his smirk was devious. “You find my humming amusing, then?”

  
“Oh, is that what you were doing? Couldn't tell.” Harry stood up to meet Malfoy’s gaze. The light from their wands danced around them as they moved in closer, circling each other.

  
“Very funny, Potter,” Malfoy responded.

  
Tilting his head to the side, Harry decided to instigate Malfoy further. “What song was that supposed to be anyway?”

  
“Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, obviously.” Malfoy’s stance relaxed as he answered. His free hand rested on his hip.

  
“Just, wow, what a great rendition.” Harry paused to clap slowly. He made sure to pause between each one long enough that Malfoy got that angry-bird look in his eyes. “Have you considered taking yourself on tour?”

  
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. He crouched down. Then, so quickly that Harry didn't see it coming, rolled up a snowball and chucked straight into Harry’s face. As he did so, there was an expression of complete joy.

  
The snow broke on contact. It was freezing, which Harry found both obvious and shocking because he had been sure his face was numb after being in the cold for so long. It got in the collar of his jacket making him wiggle around like a complete ponce.“Did you really just do that?”

  
Through his laughter at Harry’s awkward attempt at shaking the snow from himself, Malfoy managed to say, “Merlin, Potter, first your hearing is clearly off and now you cannot trust your own sight? Pity.”

  
“You are so in for it.” Harry knelt down just in time to avoid being hit in the face with another snowball. Malfoy looked shocked that he missed, but quickly knelt down to roll another snowball. Before he could throw it, Harry managed to get his off.

  
It hit Malfoy square in the chest. Other than the snow on the front of his coat, there was no evidence that he has been hit. Malfoy didn’t make a sound, nor did he move to shake the snow off. Instead, he looked amused.

  
As Malfoy smirked, he launched his next snowball directly for Harry’s gut. It landed and Harry let out an oof. The snowball was rolled so tightly that it actually hurt a bit. Like getting hit in the gut with a tennis ball. The noise was more reflexive than anything. Each of them managed to get a few more hits in before they were almost standing on top of one another—panting.

  
“You’re a—you’re a bit close, Potter,” Malfoy whispered, there was still a snowball rolled up in his hand which was mid-throw. His voice sounded strained like he had just woken up from a particularly good dream. One he was struggling to rip himself from. For a moment, Harry pictured Malfoy, in silk pajamas because the prat totally would have silk pajamas, with pillow lines on his face.

  
Harry didn’t speak, couldn't speak. He just watched Malfoy’s expression change from playful to unsure. Their breath came out in puffs like the Hogwarts Express steaming along. From this angle, Harry decided that Malfoy was definitely pointy like a bird, but also his porcelain skin looked smooth and he found he quiet wanted to run a finger across Malfoy’s cheek much as he had done to the white flower petal earlier.

  
As impulse control was never Harry’s strong-suit, he tugged at his glove and exposed his hand to the sharp chill of the night. It stung momentarily, but he ignored it. He reached it up and let it hover an inch away from Malfoy’s face.

  
“Potter, what are you doing?”

  
Harry still gave no answer. It wasn’t as if he were trying to be rude. It was simply that he had no idea what he was doing. Well, he knew he was attempting to touch Malfoy’s face, but the rest of him hadn’t quite caught up to the why part yet.

  
Possibly, it was the cold getting to him. Possibly, it was the adrenaline of the snowball fight. But also, possibly, it was the ethereal air that Malfoy gave off as he stood among the falling snowflakes and barren trees like the hero on a cover of some fantasy novel.

  
“Potter, seriously, what are you doing?” Malfoy asked. He leaned in closer as if to examine Harry’s eyes. He tilted his head to the side like a curious puppy. “You still in there, Potter?”

  
“Erm,” Harry mumbled.

  
Malfoy’s eyes lit up with relief. “He speaks. Well done, now tell me what your hand is doing so close to my face.”

  
“I wanted to...to touch you,” Harry said. His voice went up as if he wasn't sure if he was asking a question or making a statement. Probably both, he mused. This was going exactly as badly as he should have anticipated, but he couldn't stop himself now. All he had been able to think about all night was the way Malfoy stroked that petal like it was the most impressive, most desirable thing he had ever laid eyes on. Harry wanted to touch and be touched with that level of intensity.

  
Malfoy’s eyes went wide. If his cheeks weren’t already red from the cold, they would have from blushing. After a beat, he scoffed and then he semi-shouted, “ _What_?”

  
Quietly, Harry responded. “I—I mean...I wanted to stroke your cheek like you did the petal. It was stupid. I’m stupid. Sorry.” Then he looked around to see how far off Hagrid was—luckily, he was a good distance off fiddling with the branches of a tree making himself look busy.

“Uhhh, why?”

  
“Your skin looks soft.” Harry couldn’t stop the words from coming out. They were on the tip of his tongue even before Malfoy finished asking his question.

  
Malfoy smiled slowly, it started in his eyes and then spread across his whole face like the slow rise of curtains on a stage, and finally dropped the snowball he had been holding mid-throw. It made a plonk as it hit the fresh powdering. “It is soft, Potter, but I am still a little confused.”

  
Figuring he was committed and already as embarrassed as he could get, Harry asked the only logical question he could think of. “Can I see for myself since my hand is already basically there?”

  
“Er, fine, oh—okay, but only for a moment.”

  
“Only for a moment,” Harry agreed, letting his fingertips make contact first. Malfoy hissed and pulled his head back, likely because Harry’s hand was freezing after hovering there for so long. However, he calmed and let Harry continue.

  
Once Harry had his hand on Malfoy’s cheek, he let out a sigh before stroking downward toward Malfoy’s chin. He let his thumb brush over Malfoy’s bottom lip. He felt warm breath ghosting over him as Malfoy breathed out a slow sigh.

  
“Wow,” Harry sighed in reply.

  
“Po—Potter, I…” Malfoy said. Harry watch him struggle to swallow. His adam’s apple bobbed under the tight skin of his neck.

  
“I’m going to do something. Is that okay?”

  
“That depends.”

  
“I think I’m going to kiss you.”

  
“You _think_ you’re going to kiss me?”

  
“It sorta seems like the thing to do.”

  
“Why?”

  
“Do you always ask so many questions?”

  
“Yes, obviously.”

  
“I’m going to kiss you.”

  
“Okay.”

  
“Okay?”

  
“Get on with it, Potter. Merlin, you are such an unbelievable…”

  
Before Malfoy could finish what was shaping up to be another insult to Harry’s intelligence, Harry closed his eyes right, leaned forward, and kissed him.

  
At first, Harry only felt the sensation of his lips touching something. Not exactly the magic he expected kissing in the snow would be. After all, his body was basically frozen after being in the snow for so long.

  
The cold was making it hard to feel anything, let alone a kiss, so Harry grabbed the front of Malfoy’s coat and pulled him into an embrace figuring body heat would help. Malfoy made a small stuttering noise as their bodies crashed into each other. Neither of them pulled their lips apart, however.

  
After they were settled in the embrace, Malfoy’s arms snaked around Harry’s neck and Harry’s around Malfoy’s middles. Malfoy did something Harry hadn’t expected, he smiled into the kiss. The warmth that escaped from his mouth covered Harry’s. He found himself smiling, too. And then laughing. They both laughed, never parting.

  
“Twat,” Malfoy said.

  
“You’re such a romantic.”

  
“Kiss me again. Maybe I’ll feel it this time.”

  
Without hesitation, Harry kissed Malfoy and this time he felt the soft, thin lines of Malfoy’s lips. He imagined they were softer than any flower petal. The warmth of the kiss poured down to his chest and settled there. And for the last time, Harry wondered at how he ended up here on Christmas Eve kissing Draco Malfoy.

 

 

 


End file.
